|| Love to Hate Me ||

{Forty-Four}

New York City was Harlan's home. But without Liana, it felt like any other city. He realized this the moment a group of photographers surrounded him outside of a coffee shop. They asked about his new bride, questioning where she was. He had thought about saying "in his heart," but thought better of it. He missed her, but knew she and his unborn child were more than alright.

He had sent Carol to Nashville in his absence. He was sure Liana was cursing him for it, but it eased his mind to know that she wasn't alone. Living in Tennessee wasn't Harlan's idea of a good time, especially now that Liana was seven months pregnant. Each day that passed, she grew that much closer to going into labor.

It terrified Harlan to think that it would happen there... in the middle of fucking nowhere. A bear would have a better chance at delivering his baby than a doctor if they didn't find a place to live closer to the city.

To ease Harlan's mind, Liana insisted that it was time to move to New York. Their lives were loud and mostly chaotic for long stretches at a time—it was best to have the baby used to the lifestyle they would soon be living again.

But that wasn't the only reason Harlan had come back to New York.

He moved through the crowd, signing his name on everything pushed his way.

"Boy or girl?" Someone from the group spoke over the obnoxious shuttering lenses.

Harlan smiled, wanting to raise his sunglasses up to see just who had been brave enough to ask. "I'm a man, thank you very much." Harlan quipped, continuing to sign his name. Although at this point, it barely passed for a scribble.

"When's the due date?" Someone else asked. It only took a spark—Harlan was quickly bombarded with questions regarding his family. 

"Guys, guys, guys... I gotta go. But thank you so much." Harlan's rush to leave seemed to only cause everyone's questions to grow louder. He was going to have to answer something to move through the crowd quicker. "I'll just say that my girls are doin' fine, okay? I really gotta go though, I got somewhere I'm supposed to be, like... ten minutes ago." Harlan chuckled.

He made it past the crowd, getting congratulated left and right on the soon to be arrival of his baby girl.

Almost exactly two years ago to the day, he had met the love of his life. He wished he could take back all the time he had wasted trying to avoid the pretty brunette.

He knew... the moment he saw her face to face, he knew she was going to be his greatest achievement or his biggest regret. Luckily, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Harlan recalled the downward spiral; the hole he pretended not to live in. It may have taken nearly dying in a bathroom floor at some rave in Houston, but Harlan had finally seen that he was the problem. Perhaps he had always known, but never had a reason to change. Now, Harlan had two reasons.

Harlan entered the bar—the same tavern he used to get wasted in every weekend. He would walk there and other times, when he had started the party early, he would take a cab.

The familiar smell waft through the air, but not the same feeling. He took a seat at the bar, sitting in the stool uncomfortably. He turned, looking around the room.